


A Candle in the Darkness

by rayeliann



Series: A Small Fire in a Dark World [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Circle of Magi, Gen, character origins, extra background, outside of canon, pro-circle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-03-21 12:40:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3692667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayeliann/pseuds/rayeliann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Origin & Background for Hadynne Trevelyan, my mage inquisitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As you prepare your breakfast, think of others.  
> Don’t forget to feed the pigeons.  
> As you conduct your wars, think of others.  
> Don’t forget those who want peace.  
> As you pay your water bill, think of others.  
> Think of those who only have clouds to drink from.  
> As you go home, your own home, think of others  
> don’t forget those who live in tents.  
> As you sleep and count the planets, think of others  
> there are people who have no place to sleep.  
> As you liberate yourself with metaphors think of others  
> those who have lost their right to speak.  
> And as you think of distant others  
> think of yourself and say  
> “I wish I were a candle in the darkness.”
> 
> \-- Mahmoud Darwish (translated from the original Arabic)

* * *

 

Hadynne Elisabet Trevelyan could not remember a time when she was not in the Circle.

Sometimes she dreamed about a green dress, long auburn hair and a soft, warbling voice singing lullabies, but that was all they were- dreams, remnants of memories that were never fully formed. She would catch the lingering scent of Embrium flowers in the potion-making supplies and something about it stirred a nostalgia in her. There had been a garden…

Whatever she may or may not remember, any family or home she had lost when she had been committed to the Circle of Magi was no longer hers to claim. She was a Trevelyan in name alone, a mage of the circle now.

Perhaps it was because she was so young that she adapted so readily. Life in the tower was not so bad. She had this power inside her - a thing she could only guess had come from the Maker himself- it was good that she would learn how to control it. Having a place like the Circle where she could learn surrounded by others like her… well, it was nice to belong.

Hadynne had been scooped up into the shining silver arms of Templars in full armor and hidden, helmeted faces at the tender age of five. It immediately followed an incident in which she had awoken with her bed-curtains aflame. Her first years were a blur- she knew she came from Ostwick, a city in the Free Marches, and she remembered a ship’s rocking hold and a long, dusty journey in the back of a cart. Snippets of the outside world stuck in her memory - a muddy, rocky country of hills and valleys. They’d called it Fereldan.

Had she been old enough to understand just how far away from home she had been taken, she might have been frightened. She might have cried and pitched a righteous fit. But Hadynne was a solemn child, and the daughter of a wealthy Bann. She had already been taught the basics of courtly manners and proper etiquette. Proper ladies did not cry or wail at the top of their lungs for their mums. Proper ladies folded their hands neatly into their laps (as well as they could with the rune-inscribed shackles) and rode along quietly.

Kinloch Hold, where the Fereldan Circle of Magi was housed, was quite literally a tower built in the middle of a lake. It might have even been a pretty location if the lake wasn't so murky and forbidding and the skies weren't always a cloudy grey. The sparse grass on the island around the tower was yellowing and limp and looked as if it could stand to see a bit more sunshine. But it slowly became Hadynne’s home.

By the time Hadynne was fifteen she knew every nook and cranny of the tower with a fond familiarity. She would skip up and down the cool flag-stone corridors, smiling brilliantly as she wove her way around Templars. She’d made friends among the older children, those she often shared lessons with. When children her own age had started filtering in, she had found she had a difficult time getting to know them, as she had no patience for their whining or pining for home.

It was a cloudy, unremarkable day a few weeks after her fifteenth birthday that Hadynne found herself summoned to a meeting with First Enchanter Irving. She rather liked the man, he was even-tempered, a remarkably disciplined spirit healer, and always encouraging. He’d made her believe that she might one day find herself in his position. He’d even told her she had the makings of a great spirit-healer. He was accomplished, respected by his peers in the mage community as well as the Templars who stood beside him. Hadynne had allowed herself a secret little smile at that. She would like that very much.

Hadynne’s feet dangled just above the floor as she waited in the room she had been assigned. Her mind wandered over the possibilities for this meeting. The others in her class were older, and they had begun to prepare for their Harrowings. She had wondered if - perhaps even hoped - she might be invited to do the same. What an accomplishment to start out her carreer. Harrowing at such a young age was nearly unheard of. But she was the top of her class- a class of students 2 to four years her senior at that. She could not help but think she was ready. She was certainly more prepared than that lumbering fool Jowan.

Hadynne wasn't alone in the room - a handful of nervous-looking templar recruits sat across from her. She studied them curiously, noting that several of them could not have been much older than her. Odd. She had grown accustomed to the Templars being older, more authoritative figures - it was strange to thing one day she might find herself the same age - or older!

There were heavy footsteps coming up the hallway toward the room, and a scuffling could be heard as the wooden door swung wide. Harried, older templars pushed the ragged form of a young boy through the doorway. The hem of his mage-robes was charred, his clothing was rumpled, and his honey-blonde hair was out of place. He jerked his arms free of their grasp, brushing off his robes as he shot the Templars a glare.

“Ah, recruits then? You there, whats your name?” One of the older Templars addressed the waiting, fresh faces of the young men and women who would one day occupy his post. The recruit, a young, sturdy looking young man with a golden tan and dark strawberry-blonde curls spilling over his forehead jumped to his feet nervously.

“Ser! Cullen, Ser!” He piped in a nervous pitch, his body quivering as he stood at attention. The older templar snickered, looking to his partner with a grin.

“Yeah, yeah. Save your salutes boy. Just look after this one then? Careful though, he’s a slippery one.” The gruff templar didn’t wait for a response, slamming the door as he retreated quickly from the room. The recruit who had been given the task of looking after the snarling teenage boy with the messy blonde ponytail looked nervous as the youth made a rude gesture at the door before stalking into the room.

Hadynne lowered her eyes, peering through her lashes as the teen scowled at the Templar recruit, tall and lanky to the young Templar’s already muscled build. The teen in mage robes sniffed down his perfectly triangular nose before approaching the set of chairs where Hadynne was waiting.

Hadynne tucked a stray hair behind her ear, fighting the shaking of her delicate fingers. She was a very pretty girl, even for her young and awkward age. She had a smattering of light, almost imperceptible freckles across her nose, and a rosy, natural blush to her cheeks. She had long, curling dark auburn tresses, and big dark brown doe eyes framed in long, dark lashes. She had a smile that made even grumpy Knight-Commander Greagoir soften at his bristly edges. Beauty was nothing unless you had the charm and charisma to back it up. And Hadynne had it in spades.

A few of the other apprentices had started to pay special attention to her in the past few years, and she had heard of whispered trysts among them and shy hookups in the dark. She had not ventured down that road with any of them - not that she had not been invited. She’d just been preoccupied with studying and uninterested in any of the other students in such a way. Until _him_ … with his sassy backtalk and uninterested demeanor. He could toss lightning crackling over his fingertips without the slightest of effort, and he never studied for anything. He was constantly getting into trouble and playing pranks on the Templars. He didn’t even seem to know she was alive. And now he was sauntering over to her, scowling.

“What did **_you_** do? Mix up the days and kiss the wrong cheek on Greagoir’s ass?” The boy tossed the words at her flippantly as he eyed the chair beside her.

“What?” Hadynne responded, jumping slightly in surprise as her face blushed furiously.

“Nothing.” He said as he dropped himself into the chair next to her with a defeated sigh, blowing a long, lose strand of flaxen hair out of his face. “You the one who turned me in then?”

“Turned you in? For what?” Hadynne retorted immediately. She kicked herself for the impulsivity. She should have demurred and said something charming or sweet. She should have assured him she would never dream of it (which of course would be a lie - she would turn any of the mages here in for doing something if it threatened them all. That was her duty, and not do so would make her complicit and risk punishment). The boy laughed in response, running his fingers through his hair and seemingly relaxing into his chair.

“Well, if you don’t know, lets just keep it that way. No need stirring up trouble. Hadynne right?” He asked, offering her a hand with long, narrow fingers. She took it in greeting, inclining her head in the affirmative. He’d caught her off guard once before, she was careful now.

“Right. I’m Anders.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Yeah. ‘Course you do.” His tone was a tired one, aware of his infamy. Until then, she had always assumed he pulled his stunts and daring escapes for attention. _But… what if he was actually trying to get away?_ It was hard for Hadynne to imagine someone not liking it here. Rules were strict, but they were in place for a reason.

“We shared a tutor for Entropy for the last three years.” Hadynne amended, sure that this would point out her reason for knowing him was not because she had spent any time gossiping about his adventures as the other apprentices did. And this way he had no reason to suspect she had spent that time watching him through lowered lashes, admiring the quick way he flicked his wrist outward when he cast a spell.

“Ahhh, sorry.  Not one for faces. Or … lessons. ” Hadynne couldn't help but giggle at his comment, flashing her brilliant smile and batting her eyelashes as was her habit. She was sure she could have come up with a stunning reply, but the First Enchanter’s door creaked open just at that moment, and Irving poked his head out.

First Enchanter Irving was a man of average height and weight with grey hair and a long salt and pepper beard. His robes billowed around him, sweeping almost regally. The way he held himself made him seem much taller and more stately. Despite his rather imposing appearance, he had soft, sparkling blue eyes and laugh line marked his face at the corners of his eyes.

“Ah. Hadynne my dear. Come in, I am sorry to keep you waiting. And Anders… what have you- oh, never mind. I’ll get to you next.” Irving’s voice was deep and warm, and he held out a welcoming arm as Hadynne rose, nodding to Anders as she followed the First Enchanter into his office.

“Hadynne… It falls to me to inform you of certain… recent events.” Irving began as he settled himself behind his great oaken desk. Hadynne perched on the edge of the chair that sat opposite his, her stomach a flutter. There was something in the First Enchanter’s words… he almost sounded sad. _Was this…not about her Harrowing?_ Her stomach dropped, and she immediately felt her face pale and her mouth go dry.

“While it has been our greatest pleasure to have you here, you first came to us because of your family's political dealings. I trust you know this already, you are a sharp girl.” Irving paused, smiling fondly at her. Hadynne felt her hands begin to shake. _Could they toss someone out of the Circle? What would she do if they did?  Where would she go?  What had she done wrong? Was Irving saying she was no longer welcome here?_

“It seems the Trevelyans had a great number of enemies, and it was decided you would be safer outside of Ostwick. It was of course, meant as a temporary measure until the time came that you could return to Ostwick. It is after all, your home.”

“No! No, please….This is my home. Please First Enchanter, I will do better!” Hadynne felt the words tear themselves from her chest, hearing them as they fell on her own ears- high pitched and begging. She kicked herself for sounding so desperate. She should be able to hold her composure better than that. Her voice broke as she fought back tears. _What had she done for them to send her away?_

“My dear girl, you haven't done anything wrong. You’ve been a model student and I daresay one of my brightest pupils. But, don’t you want to return to the Free Marches? I hear their accommodations are a great deal more cheerful than our own.”

“I… I don’t know anyone there! This is my home.” Hadynne found herself quivering with unshed tears as she fought to push them down. She found speaking to difficult, her voice wavering.

“Oh, my dear girl.” First Enchanter Irving looked at her, his big blue eyes soft and kind. His hand clenched as a sad look crossed his face and he paused before continuing. “First Enchanter Lydia is a lovely woman, I am sure you will like her. I have heard that Ostwick has a beautiful garden.”

At Hadynne’s pointed silence, Irving sighed deeply, abandoning the cheerful approach.

“Hadynne, your family has been increasing pressure on the Chantry to have you sent somewhere ‘more civilized’. They have demanded you be placed in either Orlais or the Free Marches. As they have made no attempt to contact you directly, I suspect this was a power play more than anything else. If the Templars had their way you would be transferred to Kirkwall just to spite the Trevelyans. They love showing nobles who is in charge. It was all Greagoir and I could do to convince them to have you placed in Ostwick. I do believe it is the seat of the Trevelyan family power, and there is no way for them to object without admitting it was a power play. I am afraid you are but a pawn in a much larger game my dear.”

“So…I have no choice? I must go?” Hadynne responded quietly, after a considerable pause. Her tone was measured and even, her voice quietly controlled. She had folded her hands into her lap, and sat primly, the very picture of a lady.

“I am so sorry, Hadynne. I did everything I could.”

“I… _ahem_ … I understand, First Enchanter. I thank you for your efforts on my behalf. When shall I leave?” Hadynne inquired in the same moderated tone, her voice growing stronger as she gained control.

“Within the week I am afraid.” Irving replied, an odd look on his face as he pressed his fingertips together, regarding Hadynne across the desk. Her manners had always been impeccable, but the self control in a teenager was surprising.

“Very well. I shall gather my things and say my goodbyes. Do give my regards and utmost gratitude to the Knight-Commander for his help in securing my new position?” Hadynne rose as she spoke, dismissing herself - but doing it in such a way that it could not possibly have been seen as rude.

First Enchanter Irving followed her example, nodding to acknowledge he had heard her request as he saw her to the door. As she left, he smiled to himself. The girl was talented, charming, and had a will like iron - there was no doubt that she would be someone someday.


	2. Chapter 2

Hadynne felt tears springing into the corners of her eyes, but blinked then back down, gritting her teeth and hitting the dormitory door with much more force than she needed. It went swinging wide, clattering against the wall hard.

A strange tingle ran through her body, shoulders shaking and eyes burning. Had she been alone in the room, she would have run straight at her bed, buried her face in her pillow, and let her sobs tear themselves from her chest.

But she wasn't alone.

That skittering fool Jowan had jumped up at the sound of the door, popping up onto his feet like something had poked him hard on his bottom. His eyes were wide, darting back and forth wildly, and his dark hair was tousled. He held one of his hands in the other, and a few red stains had fallen onto his robes.

“Hadynne!”

“Jowan!”

“What are you-“ They both spoke at the same time, each over the other, each looking slightly guilty, as the words tumbled over the other’s in nearly perfect unison.

“Jowan! Are you bleeding?” Hadynne broke the awkward silence, thankful for the distraction as she felt her welling tears subside (for the time being). Joan looked surprised, his eyes going wide before they fell on his wounded hand. A ragged cut crossed the meaty part of his hand, and he winced at seeing it.

“I- I- I was trying a simple mending spell but I can’t quite get it to… to work… I caught it on a sharp edge of- ” Jowan stuttered, looked ashamed of his own incompetence. If Jowan managed to work a simple mending spell, Hadynne might have fainted on the spot. Even the most simple healing spells were still about a year out of reach for _her_ … and Jowan? Well, the boy mangled even the easiest of apprentice-level spells. He had been here longer than Hadynne, and seemed to let his lessons run in one ear and out the next. He was lucky she walked in when she did - otherwise the mending charm might have backfired terribly, and he might not have a hand to worry about fixing. Hadynne huffed, rolling her eyes as she interrupted him.

“Nevermind. Come here, we’ll need to patch you up before someone sees. The new Templar Recruits arrived, and you know how suspicious they can be.” Hadynne snapped, pulling Jowan over to the corner where they kept the wash basin. She absently wondered what he could have possibly caught his hand on to cut so deeply. But with Jowan, she had not doubt the fool would find a way.

Hadynne cleaned his wounded hand roughly, inspecting the deep cut.  

“Looks like you’ll need a stitch or two. _Maker,_ Jowan. You should be more careful.” Hadynne led him over to where they kept a small first-aid kit on a shelf in the corner, a few steps from the wash table. Hadynne wasn't sure why she was helping Jowan. It certainly wasn't out of pity. She thought him to be a pathetic, stuttering coward, and honestly didn’t know what Merida saw in him.

Merida. Hadynne’s best friend and really the only other apprentice with the same attention to detail and appreciation for knowledge. They had spent many long nights in the library, perfecting reports and essays for their lessons. They had spent long hours of practice honing their casting stances, and learning how to properly write summoning runes. Merida was the quiet type and she didn’t often boast, but Hadynne knew if she truly wanted to, she could give any one of their classmates a run for their money in technical skill and raw magical power.

Hadynne felt tears threaten again as she thought of having to say goodbye to Merida. She made friends easily, but hadn't let many of them get too close. Merida was one of the few who knew Hadynne under the shell of charm and past her pretty smile.

Jowan yelped as Hadynne pulled the stitches tight and then immediately dropped his hand. She looked imperiously down her nose at him.

“There. Do try and stay clear of the new recruits though Jowan. At least until it’s healed.” Taking this as a dismissal, Jowan squeaked in agreement and scurried off. Hadynne carefully put the bandages and first aid supplies back where she had found them, and glanced about the room. The dormitory was too open. If she stayed here and broke down… well, just anyone could walk in.

* * *

 

After wandering the tower hallways, her mind drifting, Hadynne found herself in the library. She wandered back into the stacks and found a quiet bench to curl up on. In the pocket of her circle robes, her finger ran along the spine of the small book of poetry she carried with her. She allowed her mind to wander, staring off into the space in front of her at nothing at all.

“Hadynne?” A gentle voice - quiet so as not to startle her- pulled her from her reverie. A friendly face peeked around the edge of the bookshelf, dark grey eyes glittering and dark hair flopping over his forehead in gentle waves.

“Niall. I might have known you would find me here.” Hadynne replied, offering the older mage a smile. Many of the older mages didn’t fraternize with the apprentices as some odd, unspoken rule, but Hadynne had always found Niall to be an exception, though she suspected she was his exception as well. He’d offered her help on a translation for her lessons nearly three years ago. They’d come across each other in a particularly dusty section of the library, and he had admitted he was cramming for his Harrowing.

“I know they say you cannot study for it, but I suppose it can’t hurt. If I just sit around and wait, I might go mad.” Niall had said with a self-conscious grin. Hadynne smiled right along with him, and offered to keep him company. They had been fast friends ever since - despite the significant age gap and the difference in rank (apprentice vs harrowed mage). Hadynne had often wondered if this was what having an older brother felt like.

“I heard about the transfer.”

“I am sure the entire tower has heard by now. Word seems to travel fast when something is personal.”

“I hope you don’t mind- that is, I did not mean to violate your privacy.” Niall apologized quickly.

Hadynne smiled, waving off the apology. Niall was a gentle soul, if a bit awkward.

“It is no matter. This time next week I will be on my way to the Free Marches. Ostwick. Do you know much about it?”

They spent the next few hours chatting amicably over bits of history and gossip they’d each gleaned from numerous sources on the Circle at Ostwick, the city of the same name, and the Free Marches in general. As ever, Niall proved to be a wealth of historical information, and far better company than dusty books.

* * *

 

When Hadynne left the library that evening, she felt better about her approaching departure. From what they had found, Ostwick sounded like a rather relaxed circle. There were a few small illustrations of their extensive gardens, and a passage on their history of herbalism and alchemical specializations.

She would miss her friends, but it was exciting to have new options suddenly open to her. Her entire life, Hadynne had always thought she would be a spirit healer. She’d shown a certain aptitude for dealing with spirits, and even First Enchanter Irving had said she showed promise. She’d hoped after her Harrowing to work with one of the Senior Enchanters that dealt with the specialization, like Wynne. She’d never given much thought to alchemy or herbalism. The tranquil in the tower took care of mixing most of their standard potions. Kinloch Hold did not have any gardens, they hadn’t even been allowed outside since the time Anders had tried to swim across the lake.

As if her thoughts conjured him up, Anders appeared from the shadows of a dark recess in the hall. He grinned at her, jerking his head as an invitation for her to join him. Hadynne felt a blush creep up her neck. Even in the dark, there was something alluring about the perfect angle of his nose and the glint of the earring that was the souvenir of his most recent escape attempt. Anders was always getting into trouble, but she was leaving soon anyway. Surely she could have a bit of fun before she left.

“Hey. Want to play some tricks on the new recruits?” Anders asked, flashing a smile. Hadynne peered into the dark behind Anders, looking for his usual partner in crime.

“Where is Mal?”

“Ahhh. Set Gregoir’s skirt on fire. Total accident. He’ll be out in a week or so. ” Anders quipped, grabbing her hand, and pulling her through the dark. Hadynne tried to focus on the fact that he'd just told her his previous accomplice was in the Templar’s dungeon as punishment. If she wasn't careful, she could be too. But his fingers wove between hers, and a tickle ran up her spine. Her face was hot in the dark, and she knew she was smiling like a brainless fool.

He led her to a dusty old door, and they crept up a set of side-steps that wound around through the dark. Anders hand gripped Hadynne’s tight, reassuring and confident with it’s pressure, almost as if he could hear her heart beating nervously in the dark.

There was a door with a crack in it at the top of the steps, and warm yellow light poured through. Anders motioned silently, and Hadynne pressed her eye to the opening. Anders leaned in, very close, looking through the door beside her.

“Look at them. Baby Templars. One day they will grow up and go off and start oppressing mages of their own.” Anders whispered, his breath brushing the side of her face as he shifted, his shoulder pressing against hers. Hadynne could barely concentrate on what she was seeing, her mind distracted by the proximity of her companion.

“Ok. Here is the plan…”


End file.
